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The F*ck It List: All The Things You Can Skip Before You Die

The F*ck It List: All The Things You Can Skip Before You Die

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The F*ck It List: All The Things You Can Skip Before You Die

5/5 (4 valutazioni)
118 pagine
1 ora
Nov 8, 2016


Face it, life is short and who has time to see 1000 places, read 1000 more "classics" or see 1000 movies somebody else deems essential, and all that nonsense? Here is a list of 101 things you should never bother with from the fiendishly clever mind of Kevin Pryslak. The F*ck It List is a hilarious middle-finger salute to all those absurd life goals that will ensure an anxiety-filled middle age will be followed by shame-filled golden years. It pokes a sorely needed pin into a bloated rite of passage that's ripe for deflation. Do you really need to firewalk or didn't Oprah and Tony Robbins take care of that for us? Swimming with sharks is a really dumb idea, so let's leave that with the gullible reality tv desperadoes, shall we? Kevin Pryslak has come up with a "to don't list" that will have you laughing out loud and leave you with lots more time to do the all the things YOU really want to do!
Nov 8, 2016

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The F*ck It List - Kevin Pryslak



I’m sick of hearing about bucket lists. I’m sick of ambition and life goals and things people just have to do before they die. You know what you have to do before you die? Stop breathing. That’s all. The pressure of absurd life goals will ensure that an anxiety-filled middle age (I haven’t completed enough of my bucket list yet!) will be followed by shame-filled golden years (I’m too old to cross that off my bucket list!). But still, bucket lists just won’t go away. At some point the concept of creating these boastful to-do lists lodged itself like an arterial clog somewhere between death and taxes.

Me? I don’t want to accomplish anything. Life is full enough of pressure as it is. I consider it an accomplishment if I can get to the dry cleaner and the supermarket in the same day. I say: Fuck it. I don’t want to learn how to tango. I don’t want to climb a volcano—on any continent. I don’t want to bathe in the Ganges or run a marathon or swim with sharks. None of it. Bucket lists are a pompous and bloated rite of passage whose time has come to be gone.

That said, I have written this book as a public service to you, dear reader, to relieve you of any shame you may suffer while listening to everyone taunt you with their shining and unrealistic goals.

Go forth. Be free. Eat some ice cream and watch TV.

Kevin Pryslak



You know what everyone hears when you tell them your bucket list includes setting foot on all seven continents? Unless you’re a twenty-something hipster adventurer working your way around the world on freighter ships, they hear, "I’m rich. I can do whatever I want. And you can’t. Nyah-nyah."

To begin with, twenty-something hipsters don’t think about bucket lists because they don’t think about kicking the bucket. That’s what makes them and their man-bun hair so annoying to the rest of us. They’ve yet to have their dreams die the same miserable death as Chris Christie’s dignity. That aside, let’s be honest: You’re not really going to experience those places in any meaningful way. Sure, you’ll see some cool stuff. Maybe go on one of those four-star gourmet safaris in Africa. Watch a puffin amble across a chunk of ice in the Arctic. But we all know you’ll be isolated from experiencing any sort of gritty geographical reality by waiters and tour guides and hotel rooms that cost more per night than its workers earn in ten years.

The worst part, though, is that you’ll be dying to tell us all about your travels—and we’ll have no interest in hearing about them. Zero. In fact, after the first time—which was sort of charming and, we admit, a little inspiring—we’ll secretly despise you for bringing it up again. Did I ever tell you about the time I met the Dalai Lama? Yeah, only ten times. Besides, waiting on line with him at McDonald’s doesn’t count. On the way home from listening to you, we’ll make fun of how you pronounce the name of your Turkish guide, Bünyamín, with the proper accent. We’ll unanimously decide we need to take a break from these dinners with you for a while. Eventually, we’ll stop texting you altogether. You and your fucking

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  • (5/5)
    A great read, especially during my short breaks at work, at least I'm not left hanging but I'd be thoroughly entertained